Stupid Hair
by animalbowling
Summary: Harry freaks out in Potions, and Draco Malfoy has to pay the price. one-shot, the mildest of mild slash.


Harry sulked in the back of the potions classroom. This was ridiculous! He couldn't believe he still had to attend class. He was nineteen for christ's sake! He'd already passed his potion newts during his training for the war, but they couldn't let the whole world know about his other training now could they, so they couldn't know about his extra schooling either. It was bloody insane! He was a college grad already—major in defense of course—to be sitting in a room with the others of his class that had returned to Hogwarts after two years of war was demeaning. So he sulked, and stared resolutely at the back of Draco Malfoy's head.

So what if Malfoy had turned out good (and hot, his mind betrayed him). So what if Sirius had come back only to abandon him and marry Narcissa. So what if Snape was standing above him giving him a look of death. Oh, oops, that one did matter.

"Yes professor?" Harry asked.

"I said, are you having more than usual problems with that mush you call your brain?"

"Yes, professor." Harry put on his most sincere look. Some of his classmates snorted in laughter and Snape shot them warning looks. He looked back to Harry with a scowl on his lips and a smile in his eyes.

"You will kindly pay attention Potter. I realize we mere mortals bore your majesty something dreadful, but please do try and indulge us."

"As you wish professor." Harry smiled at his desk. God, he absolutely loved that man. When had it happened he wondered, that he had gotten over his hatred of Snape and learned to enjoy him? Whenever it may have been, at least he had a father now. A more stable and caring one than Sirius could bring himself to be. It surprised Harry, no really it did, that things had turned out so well for him. Now that Remus and Snape were dating, he had high hopes that they would be married, and someday he could be adopted.

Smiling muzzily Harry shook himself out of thought and looked back up at Snape, who was heading back to the front of the class. As Harry's eyes followed him, they snagged on Malfoy's stupid head again and Harry was back to glaring at the platinum helmet. Just what was up with that hairdo anyway? It had gotten shorter over the years, but Malfoy still slicked it back with what must be a bottle of gel a day. It looked positively indestructible, and reminded him greatly of this muggle American show called Buffy the Vampire Slayer. There was a character in it named Spike that had a very similar style. Hmpf, well, at least his had gotten messed up a few times. It was really cute when it was mussed and spikey. Heh, he thought, Spike's hair spikey. Anyway it wasn't indestructible apparently. He wondered about Malfoy's though, it really was a helmet.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, in the midst of a sea of grey-green boredom a plot began to form. Sure, it wasn't a fabulous idea but no one had really accused Harry of being stable after the war was over. He was known to just occasionally "loose it" and do something totally mental. So far he'd gotten away with it, but people looked at him warily all the same. Really, it wasn't that bad of an idea he just wanted to see it different. Everything in the whole fucking world had changed except for Malfoy's hair. Why the fuck did he think he would get to keep something the same when everyone else had to change. It just wasn't right. Stupid selfish prick, he always had been. Well, he had no right. That's really all there was to it.

Harry barely realized that he'd gotten out of his seat. He shook off his robe and began to walk up the aisle towards Malfoy's desk. The students began to murmer to each other. Each one citing the "look" that Harry had again. They knew something was about to blow, and since he was headed for the front of the class, for Malfoy and Snape, they knew it was going to be good. Though pragmatically they prepared to run if things got out of hand.

Snape looked up from his paper work at his desk to see Harry coming for the front of the class with his resolve face on. He was slightly disturbed to see that it wasn't aimed at him, but at Malfoy.

"Potter! Potter get back to your seat. What do you think you're doing?" Snape shouted.

Harry ignored him, in truth he barely heard him over the pounding in his ears. How dare he think he could keep something normal and stable! When he got to Malfoy, who had turned to look at him. Harry tapped him on the shoulder and ordered him to stand up. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at him.

"You can't order me around Potter."

Harry growled ferally and dragged a protesting Malfoy to his feet. Malfoy was tall, probably six foot, and Harry was probably only six two, so they stood fairly eye to challenging eye.

"Well, what is it Potter? You've got me up here on your level now."

A strange glint came into Harry's eyes. His fingers clenched and unclenched at his sides, and one corner of his mouth quirked up into a smirk.

"You don't get to stay the same, it's not allowed."

"What are you on about Potter? You really are bloody mental."

"Potter, take your seat." Snape said weakly, he knew it was no use.

Harry's hands shot up quickly and Draco flinched reflexively for the punch he knew was coming. But Harry didn't hit him, his hands shot into Draco's hair. He twirled and rubbed madly at it while Draco squirmed and tried to get away. Funny, Harry thought, it's not really a helmet all the way through; it's so soft on the inside. Meanwhile Harry pulled Draco's hair up from his head to make peaks and horns, he squenched it in his fingers and smiled maniacally.

He came back to himself with a jolt when he realized Draco wasn't struggling anymore he was just standing, with his head slightly bent. The rest of the class was staring in fascination, horror, and amusement while Harry played in Draco Malfoy's hair. Bugger. Well, it was nice. Harry chanced a quick glance at Snape and saw the mirth that was threatening to break the surface. He scowled at Snape and looked down at Malfoy. Malfoy whose head was bowed, eyes were closed, lips pressed together, whose cheeks were wet? His cheeks were wet! Had anyone else seen that? Harry panicked, grabbing Draco by the wrist and pulling him into Snape's private office at the head of the room. He stuck his head back out the door,

"I'm just going to apologize and then stab myself with pointy sticks," he told Snape, who nodded and snarked at the class to get back to work.

Back in the office Draco stood where he'd been placed. Harry quietly pulled the door to as far as he dared and then walked over to Malfoy. He stared at him blankly for a minute. Draco chose that time to look up at Harry, and somewhere inside, Harry felt something release. There was no accusation or anger in Draco's eyes, there was no hurt or betrayal. Just blankness, and acceptance. Acceptance of abuse. Ridiculous and silly abuse, but still Harry thought, abuse.

Harry reached up slowly and nervously towards Malfoy's hair and started to try and smooth it down. The problem was, that once the gel had been told it was okay to stand up anywhere it wanted to, it was unwilling to lay down peacefully again. Harry whimpered and tried harder, combing his fingers through the white hair. Yes, it was more white now than blond. Why hadn't I seen that? Too much sun, too much labor in the sun in the war in the blood and sun and death, and Harry had tried to take it away. Had taken away trust and had taken away a comfort. Stupid, he was mind bogglingly stupid, and why wouldn't the hair just fucking lay back down! He was starting to panic again and he looked around the room hoping for-he didn't know what. A sink maybe so he could wet it? Or a tube of hair gel or something, though this was Snape's office he reasoned. There was nothing though, and the panic settled in, cuz Draco was still just staring at him, allowing him to smooth and restlessly pet his now unruly hair. Draco who hadn't wiped the tears off his face, who hadn't hit him or said a word or even glared at him. Harry broke, tears slipped silently from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he murmured and realized he'd been saying it over and over all along. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," like a mantra to calm the hair. Draco's eyes wavered, he looked confused. Harry felt panic, total panic, this was no longer a blank Draco, this was Malfoy coming back to himself and soon, Harry knew, soon there would be yelling and curses flying and he had to do something before that happened so he petted his way down the back of Draco's neck and pulled his head into his chest and hugged as tight as he dared, still petting the hair, the stupid hair that wouldn't lay down no matter what. Stupid stubborn hair just like it's stubborn git owner. Then he realized he was hugging Malfoy and that this was a much worse offense than playing with his hair and he tried to jerk himself back but Malfoy's hands had clasped behind his back and he couldn't get away because Malfoy was hugging him back, because Draco was clinging to him and crying into his chest, and that was it, all he could take; Harry collapsed into Snape's oversized cushy chair and pulled Draco onto his lap and leaned back. He closed his eyes and rubbed Draco's back with the hand that wasn't still trying to tame his hair. Stupid hair. It was all about that stupid hair.


End file.
